How can I make this summer go faster?
by ElspethBates
Summary: Harry has had enough. He's tired of putting up with all the usual stife every summer. It's time for a change. With a bit of help from someone he never thought to hear from again, and a new friend, he just might figure it out. hpoc
1. Default Chapter

A/N: I do not own any of the characters, plots, or anything else created by J.K. Rowling. Everything is borrowed in the hopes of keeping my mind occupied until the next REAL story is published. I hope you enjoy my story!

Chapter 1:  
The bitter made better

Harry lay in his bed staring at the dark ceiling of Number 4 Privet Drive trying not to think about everything that had happened in the last few days. Twilight had fallen, by the snores reverberating from the other bedrooms he knew everyone else was asleep. He wished he had a dreamless sleeping draught, but that wasn't possible. He was stuck in the muggle world, and he didn't know how long it was going to be before he would be able to escape back to the wizarding world. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go back to the wizarding world. Despite the fact he was trying to clear his mind, thoughts kept whirling around in vicious circles. Sirius was dead. First and foremost in his mind was that undeniable fact. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked rapidly to hold them at bay.

"Think of something else, Harry," he whispered fiercely to himself. A long sigh escaped him as the next thought hit him, "At least he's with my parents now." There was comfort in that thought. The three friends united again. Someday he would be able to join them. But responsibility held him in this world. The prophecy. Harry closed his eyes and could see Dumbledore's pensieve and the ghostlike form of Professor Trelawney uttering the words that were etched in his mind, one sentence kept reverberating over and over again.

Neither can live while the other survives. But what power did he have that Voldemort didn't? He was still just a teenager. Yet he had been attacked repeatedly since his eleventh birthday, actually since he was only one year old. Harry's fingers crept up and lightly traced the lightning bolt shaped scar on his brow. The scar that was the sign to all the world that the Dark Lord had tried to kill him, and failed. A grim smile crossed Harry's face as he softly spoke, "You failed when I was a baby. You failed when you tried to steal the Sorcerers Stone. Your memory failed to kill me. You failed to kill me in a duel. Your death eaters failed to kill me in the Department of Mysteries. You will fail again. I will not fail. For my parents, for Sirius, for all the wizarding world, IWILL NOT FAIL!" His scar throbbed one short, sharp, stabbing pain and then stopped.

Harry wondered if he had, inadvertently, sent a message to his enemy. 'I hope so' he thought angrily. He rolled to his side and forced his mind to think of other things. He tried to concentrate on his friends, Ron and Hermione, but all he could see was their worried expressions. He didn't want anyone to worry about him. He knew that there wasn't any help for it, they would worry no matter what, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

The moonlight was shining through his window, illuminating Hedwig's empty cage. He wished she were there with him. She was the only creature in this house that truly cared about him, and didn't flinch when he spoke. He concentrated on her snowy white feathers, and large expressive amber eyes, the way she would nibble his fingers with affection, how she loved being a post owl, holding her leg out for him to tie letters and packages to. At long last, he fell asleep.

_"Hullo, Harry," came the voice Harry had never hoped to hear again._

_His heart leapt in his chest and he spun around to see him, "SIRIUS!" he shouted happily, running to grab his godfather in a bear hug. Sirius held him close for a long moment, pressing his cheek against Harry's messy hair. Tears slid down Harry's cheeks, squeezing out from under eyes closed tight._

"_Harry," Sirius finally spoke, his voice gruff with emotion as he gently eased his godson back far enough to meet his gaze. "Harry, we have to talk. I don't have long here."_

_Harry took a deep shuddering breath. He didn't want this dream to end. He knew it was a dream. He knew that Sirius was dead. But he didn't want to believe it. He wanted to pretend that this dream was real. That Sirius was fine and able to hug him. To be here for him, especially now. Now that he knew he was either going to have to kill the most powerful dark lord of this age, or be killed by him. "This is my dream isn't it?" he asked plaintively, desperately trying to control his own dream. _

"_No Harry, this isn't really a dream. Not like other dreams. This is the only way I could come to you to say goodbye I have to tell you,"_

"_NO!" the word wasn't spoken angrily, just forcefully. "This is a dream."_

"_Listen Harry," Sirius replied earnestly, "I really don't have much time before I have to go on. I have to let you know, you need to hear this from Me!"_

"_If you're not a dream," Harry began suspiciously, "How do I know you are really Sirius?"_

"_You have to have a bit of faith Harry, but if you need proof I'll give it to you," Sirius answered, "I was the one that sent you your firebolt. Now will you listen to me?" _

_Harry nodded, his throat closed with emotion as he finally looked into the eyes of his godfather and saw the love lingering there. _

"_Harry, you have to believe that it wasn't your fault. I died the way I wanted to die, in battle. I didn't set out to die, and I didn't necessarily want to die so soon, but I certainly didn't want to stay locked up in my parents house and molder away. I've made my choice Harry, and it is to go on. I hope you understand. I love you as much as if you were my own child. But I miss my friends and I need to go on." Sirius was beginning to fade, "Always remember Harry, it wasn't' your fault!"_

"_SIRIUS!" Harry shouted, "Don't leave me again Sirius!" _

"_Time for me to move on Harry, I had to beg for this much time to say goodbye. You are stronger now, you've grown. I'm proud of you and I love you!"_

_He was gone. Tears streaked down Harry's face, but this time they brought the relief he needed. He believed what Sirius had said. It wasn't his fault, at least not completely. _

Oblivion reached up and wrapped Harry in its merciful arms.

Although Harry had slept deeply, he woke quickly and was immediately alert. A glance at the window told him it was just before dawn. He thought briefly of watching the sunrise and decided to shower before his Aunt and Uncle woke.

Feeling somewhat refreshed from the hot water, Harry dressed and made his way downstairs. After the way Mad Eye had warned his relatives about his happiness, Harry decided he would try to start off on the right foot by cooking breakfast. Several minutes later with sausages frying, and the coffee perking, he was able to whip the eggs for a quick scramble when the rest of the family came down to eat. He started toasting bread and poured himself a glass of orange juice to sip while he was cooking. Just as the percolator gave it's last burble the kitchen door swung wide and Aunt Petunia charged through the door looking about with an amazed expression etched on her boney face. "Wh-what's all this?" she demanded.

"I thought it would be nice if I made breakfast for everyone, instead of just myself," Harry answered, trying a small smile for good measure he added, "Good Morning." Taking a coffee cup from the cabinet he poured a cup and held it out to her, "It just finished brewing."

Aunt Petunia looked at him quizzically for a moment before taking the cup from him with weak fingers. She looked around the kitchen as though she were looking for something to criticize, but Harry had been cleaning up behind himself. He gave the sausage another turn, trying not to smile at his aunts discomfiture he asked, "Shall I fix the eggs now, or should I wait for Uncle Vernon?"

She turned her head toward the stairs and they both could hear his heavy lumbering step, a faint conspiratorial smile tinged her expression as she lowered herself in a seat at the table, before she barked, "Well boy, get the eggs on!"

By the time his uncle had retrieved the paper and hurried into the kitchen, there was no trace of a smile on either Petunia's or Harry's face. He quickly poured his uncle a cup of coffee before he could ask and went back to cooking breakfast. Within moments he placed a platter filled with sausages, eggs, and toast in the middle of the table.

Vernon looked down his nose at the meal before him and growled, "Thought with that little reception yesterday, you'd think you were above doing your share around here boy!"

Harry took a deep breath to steady his temper. There was no reason to start off on the wrong foot on the first morning of vacation. "I don't mind helping, Uncle Vernon," he replied evenly. "My friends just don't want me to be treated like a prisoner this summer."

A red flush began creeping up Vernon's jowly cheeks, "We've taken you in, out of the goodness of our hearts. We've put up with your unnaturalness, your weird ways, and your weirder friends coming to pick you up through the fireplace! A little gratitude from YOU is in order, I do believe!"

"Uncle Vernon," Harry began calmly, barely keeping his temper in check, "I do appreciate the fact that you've have taken me in. I do wish that I could share more of my life with you, but you wouldn't appreciate or understand what I have to tell you. I hope that this summer might be a little different." Although he knew his uncle would never change, Harry nursed a faint hope that this summer didn't necessarily have to be as tortuous as usual.

Vernon's mouth opened and closed once or twice, not having any sarcastic or angry retort to make about his nephew being polite and cooperative. Petunia came to his rescue, "Vernon darling, have some breakfast before it gets cold." He picked up the platter and shoveled some food onto his plate wordlessly.

By the time that Dudley waddled into the kitchen, breakfast had been cleared away and Aunt Petunia had placed half a grapefruit on the table in front of his chair. "Aw mum, can't I have more than this to eat? I have to keep up with my training!"

"Duddy darling, you know the school nurse has sent home a new diet sheet this summer," she trilled sweetly at her son. "You'll notice that there is HALF a grapefruit on your plate instead of only a quarter!"

"But mum," he whined, "I can nearly smell sausages and eggs!"

Petunia cheeks flushed slightly before replying in a rush, "Don't be silly darling, now eat your breakfast like a good boy. I have to go and vacuum the living room."

Harry sat at his desk writing letters when Hedwig swooped in the window, landing softly beside her cage. Harry grinned at her asking, "Did you have a good night girl?" He laid down his quill to stroke her downy feathers. "Would you take these to Dumbledore, Ron, and Hermione?" Hedwig blinked slowly and nibbled his fingers gently. She waddled over to her cage for a drink to wait for him to finish writing. He rolled up his letters, writing their names on each before tying them to Hedwig's leg. She clicked her beak before hopping to the window, she looked over her shoulder and hooted softly, in a reassuring manner and soared silently out the window.

Harry had retreated to his room after breakfast and decided to write to all three, telling them everything he could remember from his dream. He made a bet with himself what their responses would be, Dumbledore would tell him not to worry, but to keep him informed if he had any more dreams of Sirius coming to him in his dreams to impart reassurance and/or advise. Ron would worry, and probably talk it over with his dad before replying with a letter full of contradictions, 'Don't worry Harry, it was just a dream. But . . . you don't suppose it's some sort of trick from you-know-who do you?'" and Hermione, she would look the dream up in her books and try to interpret what it might have met, all the while telling him that he should probably write to Dumbledore and let him know all about it. He hoped he would be able to keep to himself that he already had so he could see her face when he told her that Dumbledore was one of the first people he wrote to.

Now it was nearing lunchtime, and Harry didn't want to spend his whole vacation in his room so he wandered downstairs. Dudley was out with his friends, probably terrorizing the neighborhood. Uncle Vernon was playing golf with his cronies; Harry had seen him load his clubs into the car not long after breakfast. Aunt Petunia was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea and staring out the window. Harry remembered the faint smile she had given him this morning and decided to test the waters, "Aunt Petunia?" She jumped and set her cup down before spilling tea all over herself.

"Yes? What do you want?"

"I was wondering if, if perhaps you might talk with me for a while?" he asked tentatively.

"Talk?" she asked sardonically, "Whatever would WE have to talk about?"

"Well," Harry drawled out the word, trying to figure out how to ask what he wanted without making her shriek at him. "We might talk about my mother."

She flinched slightly and started to rise out of her chair. Harry leaned forward, eyes pleading. Here was the one person that had known his mother all of her life, he wanted desperately to know more about her so he asked again, "Please, I really want to know what she was like."

Petunia sank slowly back into her seat and was quiet for a long moment before she began, "Your mother and I never got along very well. She was always very outgoing and intelligent. Top marks in grade school. She was always chosen for the best parts in the school productions. While I was, well, quite a bit more shy. I always had to study very very hard to get even average marks in school. I was never chosen to be 'on stage' during a school production," she laughed mirthlessly. "I remember the last one before she went to that school, they were doing Cinderella. Of course your mother was the Star of the Show! I was put in charge of costumes."

Harry was proud to hear that his mother has always done well, but seeing the sadness in Aunt Petunia's eyes at the moment, he couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her. "So that's why," he whispered softly.

Petunia looked up from her teacup and asked, "What's why?"

"That's why you called her 'your perfect sister' that night. The night Hagrid came for me on that island."

Petunia looked back into her teacup, "Yes, I suppose so." She was very quiet for a long moment before continuing, "You were never a very easy child to raise, you know."

"What do you mean? What could I have done when I was a baby?" he asked sharply, trying to contain his anger. Anger wouldn't get him the answers he was looking for.

"It was obvious from the time you were a baby that you were 'one of them' that you weren't normal."

"Oh. Well, most of the time I'm rather glad I'm not normal. But there are times when I do wish otherwise." Harry admitted.

"You could try to show that a bit more around here," she replied sharply. "Remember that we don't go in for that other sort of thing round here. And don't you think that we'll be chatting like old friends either." She looked flustered, like she had given away secrets she wasn't supposed to.

"I'll try to stay out of your way and to help out when I can," he replied through gritted teeth, once again reigning in his temper.

Petunia hesitated before replying, "See that you do."

Harry decided it was time to get some fresh air and headed toward the door. He wandered around Little Whinging, barely taking in the bright blue sky, the warm balmy air or the normal sounds of every day life in the Muggle world: the droning of lawn mowers, children laughing as they ran and played, the music in the air from radios playing in the homes he passed. He felt as though he was walking through a thick blanket of fog, almost as though there was a slight form of pressure surrounding him, separating him from the rest of the world. He shook his head at that whimsical thought and tried to focus on the things around him.

He ambled over to the park, sitting on the swing he sat on last summer, he remembered watching Dudley and his gang come into view, and trying to will them to look over at him and have a go. He snorted at the memory of wanting 'something' to happen, then he recalled thinking sarcastically to Sirius that he'd been good and hadn't done anything to draw attention to himself, only to run into dementors just a few minutes later.

Out of nowhere came a poke in the back of his head and a voice demanding, "What are you doing here?" Harry turned to see Dudley standing over him, quite alone, with his chubby features set in a scowl.

"Public park," Harry answered airily. "That means anyone is allowed to come here if they'd like."

Dudley showed no sign that he understood that Harry was being sarcastic, and grunted, "Watch yerself, or I just might have to teach you a lesson!"

Harry quirked an eyebrow for a moment and considered how he wanted to handle this one, "Hey Dinky, did you know I just took my O.W.L. tests? Did you know that once you pass them you are considered an adult? Know what that means, Dud? Can you figure it out for yourself, or do you need some help?" Harry couldn't keep the smirk on his face as Dudley slowly added up what he'd been told and came to a conclusion. Harry clapped his hands vigorously, "VERY good Dud, I think you've got it! That means, soon I won't have anything to stop me from cursing you into oblivion if I choose. Now, if you can wrap your brain around that, you just might figure out that it would probably be smart to stay out of my way!"

"I-I don't be-believe you!" Dudley stuttered. "Y-you're not al-allowed to do th-that outside of that freak school you go to!"

"Believe it Dud, believe it," Harry retorted smugly, "I don't want to have to waste my time with you. So your best bet is to stay out of my way."

Dudley's belligerent scowl faded, his complexion taking on a pasty hue. Faint comprehension of what could possibly happen if Harry was telling the truth dawned slowly. "Y-you can't! Y-you w-wouldn't have anyplace to go! F-father would t-toss you out on your can!" he babbled desperately.

Outwitting Dudley was second nature to Harry, but there was a tiny nagging voice chanting at him to stop baiting his cousin. He didn't want to, he wanted to see Dudley quivering with fear. However, the voice made sense. He did need a place to stay, even if it was only briefly, he hoped. "Possibly Dudley, you just might be right," he drawled, making a slight concession but he couldn't resist adding, "you just might be wrong, you know. Think it's worth taking the chance?"

Surprisingly Dudley seemed to be thinking it over. "Why do you keep coming here? Why? Life would be so much better if we never saw you again!" he burst out angrily.

Harry's temper flared, his eyes flashed angrily as he rose to his feet, "You think so? Well I agree with you! I wish I NEVER had to come back here and live with you lot! Looks like we're just stuck! So BACK OFF, before I make you wish you had!"

Fear mixed with panic washed Dudley's features. His eyes were glued to Harry's hand, which had instinctively grabbed his wand tucked into the waist of his pants. He began to back away slowly. In a lame attempt at defiance, he muttered, "You just stay away from me!" He turned tail and stumbled slightly, fists clenched with impotent rage as he stalked away.

Harry smiled grimly. So much for trying to keep the peace. He knew that Dudley would tell his parents and that he would be in for shrieks of rage, and having to listen to his uncle rant and rave about how grateful he should be just to have a roof over his head and food on his plate. A long-suffering sigh escaped him as he turned in the opposite direction of his cousin. His best hope would probably be to just stay out of the house as much as possible.

He scuffed along, kicking a stone as he went, pondering his lot in life. He hated summer with a passion. He hated being stuck in the Muggle world, even if it was for his own safety. He'd rather be in danger. At least he'd be with his own kind.

He found himself in front of a small shop filled with knick-knacks. The window display had what looked like a crystal ball sitting to one side, as he looked at the display more closely he realized this was a shop that sold what Muggles thought magic tricks were. On a whim he decided to go in and take a look around. The bell tinkled cheerfully as he opened the door and a voice floated from the back of the store, "Be right with you."

Harry found a shelf filled with 'magical gags'. The sign tacked to the wall above it said, 'Fool your friends!' 'Be the life of the Party!' Harry laughed softly at an obviously fake flower that had a long tube stuck inside it to squirt water at whoever would sniff it.

"Ah, looking for something to entertain your friends with?" the shopkeeper asked as he came through the curtain covering the back room. The man was short, slightly balding, and had a happy beaming smile.

"Just taking a look around," Harry answered politely.

"Bored with summer already, young man?" the little man asked kindly.

"Something like that," Harry admitted.

"My name is Smythe, Fenton Smythe," the man said jovially. He glanced toward the storage room and back to Harry. "What's your name young man?"

"Potter sir, Harry Potter," he answered holding out his hand.

The plump man took Harry's hand in his and asked brightly, "You wouldn't by any chance be looking for some work would you?"

Harry thought quickly, this would be a perfect excuse for getting out of the house and away from his relatives! Then he thought of his friends, who would hopefully be getting him out of there soon. "What kind of work do you need done?" he asked cautiously.

"Well, young Harry, as much as I'd like to offer you a full time job, unfortunately I only need someone to help me clear out the storeroom. I think it would take a strapping young man like you a week or two," Fenton answered some of the brightness leaving his smile.

"That sounds wonderful!" Harry exclaimed, "When can I start?"

Fenton's eyes lit up as he beamed at Harry, "How about tomorrow morning? Say 'round ten?"

Harry reached out and shook Fenton's hand vigorously and smiled, "I'll be here, sir!"

I would greatly appreciate it if everyone would drop me a line and let me know what they think! Reviews do fuel the fire of the imagination!


	2. Facing Uncle Vernon

Facing Uncle Vernon

Harry ambled around the neighborhood before heading back to Privet Drive. Turning up the walk he was greeted by his Uncle's bellow, "BOY! Get in here NOW!"

Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a huge sigh he replied, "Yes Uncle Vernon."

The door was slammed shut behind him and his uncle stood there, red faced and breathing heavily, "Dudley told us what you did today! Let me tell you, threats from those freaks or no threats, I WON'T STAND FOR IT!"

Harry's eyes flashed with indignation. All his life he had to put up with Dudley's bullying and now, when he finally had an edge to keep his cousin a bay, he was being forbidden to stand up for himself. "I'll make you a deal," he offered, "you tell Dudley to stay away from me, and I'll stay away from him."

Vernon huffed, "I'll make no deals with you boy! I'm telling you, you keep that freakishness put away or I'll toss you out on your can!"

Harry's temper flared inside him. He was trying to do everything he could to keep it under control, but he couldn't help retorting, "Do that! Why don't you? Then the protections on this house would fall and you would _really _find out what kind of freaks there are in the world!"

He stomped up the stairs and slammed his door shut behind him only to have it flung open a moment later. Vernon stood there, anger etched on his florid face, "What do you mean? Protections?"

Harry sighed, "Don't you remember what happened last year?"

His uncle nodded once and stood there, breathing heavily, waiting for more.

"Well," Harry continued, "do you think that Voldemort just went away since then?"

"Still going on about that are you?" Vernon scoffed. "What's so important about you that someone would be so concerned where you are? Not that I don't understand someone hating you enough to want you done in!"

Harry pushed up his bangs and pointed to the lightning bolt shaped scar. "That's what makes me so important to him!" he growled angrily, "I got that when he tried to kill me when I was just a baby. The night he killed my parents he tried to kill me too!"

"Why would someone try to kill a baby?" Vernon continued to scoff, but the color was draining from his face as his temper cooled.

"There's a prophecy," Harry replied evenly.

"A what? A prophecy?" Vernon asked, dumbfounded, "Like that bloke, Nostradamus?"

Harry blinked, he wasn't used to his uncle speaking to him unless he was bellowing at him or ordering him around. "Yes, a prophecy."

Vernon shook his head abruptly, "Well boy, what's this prophecy?"

Harry sighed, he hated thinking about it, but the words were etched in his mind. _"The on with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

"And that scar, that's the mark?" Vernon asked, in an oddly quiet voice.

"Yes."

"How do you know it's you?"

"There's no doubt," Harry replied heavily, he sank down on the chair at his desk, "He's been trying to kill me for years."

"What's this power? The one he doesn't know about?"

"I don't know. I'm still learning."

"And these protections? What are they?"

"I'm not completely certain. It has something to do with me being able to call this place my home. I have to be here at least once a year for the protections to remain. They were set when you and Aunt Petunia took me in, because she's my only living blood relative." Harry answered evenly.

Vernon sat down on Harry's bed, "And if you left, these protections would disappear?"

Harry nodded.

"And Volde-whatsis would come here?"

"Probably," Harry replied, "you see, he delights in fear and death. He might possibly just kill you, to get to me."

Vernon rubbed his face as he sorted his thoughts. "Why? There's no love lost between us."

Harry winced, he'd always known that his uncle didn't care for him, but to have it put so bluntly still hurt. "He doesn't know that. Even if he did, he wouldn't care."

Vernon looked up sharply, "He wouldn't, eh?"

"Anything that would hurt me, he would delight in." Harry told him calmly. "It would make me weak in his eyes."

"You tell me the truth, boy," Vernon demanded, "Are you allowed to use that-that thing yet?"

"Only in life-threatening situations, and even then I'd have to go to trial. Just like last year." Harry answered honestly.

"These protections, what do they do?"

"They keep us hidden from him," Harry answered, "That much I'm sure of. I don't know if they would do anything else."

"Why isn't your government looking for him?" Vernon demanded, "You did tell us last year that your sort has a government right?"

"They denied he was back until recently," Harry answered stiffly, remembering what had happened so very recently.

"Your god-father, what about him? Why isn't he after this Volde-whatsis?" Vernon demanded.

Tears welled in Harry's eyes, stinging painfully, "He's dead. One of Voldemort's witches killed him. That's the night that the ministry admitted he had returned."

Harry couldn't believe that he and his uncle were having a civilized conversation. It was bewildering, but somehow, it was a relief.

"Sorry to hear that," Vernon said gruffly.

Harry nodded. It was still painful to think of Sirius.

"Don't think that all of this is going to make us some sort of happy loving family." Vernon added arrogantly, rising from the bed. "I'll take you up on that deal, though. You stay away from Dudley and I'll tell him to keep away from you."

Harry nodded in agreement, not quite able to say 'thank you' to his uncle. There was too much bad blood between them for that.

"How long will you be staying here this summer? Perhaps it would be best if you went and stayed with one of your kind."

"I'm not sure," Harry answered honestly, "hopefully I'll only be here a couple of weeks."

"Keep me informed, and tell whoever it is that comes to pick you up, to do so in a normal manner," Vernon ordered, "I don't want the fireplace to explode again. And you write to those people and let them know that you are fine."

"I'll do that."

"Then you come downstairs, the lawn needs to be mowed."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered automatically, as his uncle left the room.

He picked up a quill and began to write,

_Dear Ron,_

_You are not going to believe what a day I've had and it's only 2:00 in the afternoon…_

Harry dusted off his hands as he finished cleaning the first shelf in Fenton's storeroom when the bell over the door tinkled. Fenton had left pick up some lunch and asked Harry to mind the store for a few minutes. He walked out to the front of the store calling softly, "Can I help you?"

A very pretty girl with merry blue eyes asked, "Where's Uncle Fenton?" Her voice was softly accented, but Harry couldn't quite place where from.

"Oh, he went to pick up some lunch and asked me to mind the store," Harry answered politely, trying not to stare.

The girl smiled as she walked up to the counter, "Well I hope he remembers that I was coming for lunch." She had long honey colored hair pulled up in a ponytail with bright green ribbons that matched her tee shirt.

Harry returned her smile, "I'm Harry, by the way, I'm going to be helping out your uncle for a while, cleaning out his back room."

She wrinkled her nose, "That clutter house? Better you than me! I'm Elizabeth, I help out my uncle once in a while when my family and I visit over the holidays."

"That's nice of you," Harry replied, not knowing what else to say. "Where are you from?"

"Oh, I was born here in England, but my father's job moved him to France several years ago. I go to school there, but I'm sure you wouldn't have heard of it."

"Probably not, but then I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have heard on mine anyway," Harry grinned.

"Probably, I only know of a few and you don't look snobby enough to go to Smeltings," she replied pertly.

Harry snorted, "No, I don't go to Smeltings, but my cousin Dudley does."

"That doesn't tell me where you go," she said, noticing that he tried to avoid the answer.

Harry brushed his hair back from his face, not wanting to lie to this girl and tell her he went to a secure center for criminal boys.

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she saw his scar, "You know," she drawled out slowly, "you just might have heard of my school. It's called Beaubaxton's."

A/N: A bit short and perhaps predictable, but I do have some fun stuff planned. Please review, as I'm sure you know Reviews fuel the fire of creativity!


	3. Coincidence?

Once again, I don't own it... but I really wish I did!

Coincidence?

"Beauxbatons?" Harry asked, incredulously.

"Oui," Elizabeth replied with a grin.

He shook his head in amazement. What were the odds that he would get a job in the first place? That it would be a short-term job with an incredibly nice boss, who just happened to be an uncle to a witch?

"Oh, stop looking so amazed!" she exclaimed, "It's only natural that we would meet. I just didn't expect it to be until the beginning of the school term."

Harry's guard went up, was this girl a leglimens? "What makes you say something like that?"

Sparkling blue amused eyes looked directly into guarded emerald, "Well, like pulls toward like, doesn't it?"

"You mean like a magnet?" Harry asked cautiously.

Elizabeth's ponytail bobbed as she nodded, "It's not like I go around waving my wand calling out, 'anyone around here a wizard?' you know. But if you look around carefully enough, you can usually tell if someone has a magical nature."

Harry had never considered looking for wizards or witches in muggle England. Although he thought her idea had merit, he still kept his guard up.

"Besides, it's not like every witch in Europe doesn't know who you are!" she teased. "I've seen your picture, you know, in the Daily Prophet."

"Yeah," Harry countered bitterly, "The bloody boy-who-lived."

"Quite."

"Quite? An English phrase coming from a French student?"

"English phrase from an English girl who's family moved to France when she was ten and moved back just before she turns sixteen," came the cheeky reply.

"Why didn't your uncle tell me?"

"Why would he? He's a squib and he doesn't pay any attention to the wizarding world."

Harry shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. He couldn't quite believe that he had met a witch, much less such a pretty one, in the middle of Surrey on his summer vacation.

Elizabeth leaned on the counter and watched the play of emotions and thoughts across Harry's face. "It's okay, you know, I won't go around the neighborhood chanting 'Harry Potter's a Wizard' at the top of my lungs. I don't have any desire to be hauled off to the Looney bin."

Harry laughed weakly, "My uncle would just love that!"

"Squib?"

"No," Harry answered with a grin, "worse! Muggle."

"Oh, ick! Is he at least decent to you about being a wizard?"

"My uncle," Harry replied, "tried to squash the wizard out of me all my life. If there were still witch burnings, he'd be the first one strikinga match."

Compassion only slightly tinged with pity softened her expression, "Well then, I don't think I'll be coming round for tea." This boy needed some cheering up, especially if what he had just told her was even partially true.

A snort of laughter escaped Harry, "Oh, my uncle would just love that, me bringing a witch home for tea!"

"Well, perhaps, just before the end of vacation, we'll just have to see what we can do to throw your uncle for a loop!" came the mischievous reply.

The bell over the door tinkled cheerfully as Fenton came bustling through the door, his arms heaped with bags and packages. "Harry!" he called out, "Harry my good man, come give me a hand! I nearly forgot that my niece is coming for lunch today…"

Harry leapt over the counter and took the top load of packages from a precariously pile stacked in Fenton's arms.

"Oh! There you are my dear girl. Come give your uncle a kiss for remembering that you were going to be here today!" he sang out cheerfully as she came behind Harry to help unload her uncle's arms.

She leaned up on tip-toe and pecked his cheek, "Only because I can smell my favorite fish and chips!"

"Mind your cheek girl!" warned Fenton, grinning good-naturedly, "or I'll gobble it all down!" He looked over toward Harry who was stacking the packages neatly behind the counter, "Harry, my boy, go wash up and we'll sit down and enjoy the feast I've just brought in!"

"I don't want to be a bother, sir," Harry answered nervously, "I can just go in the back and continue cleaning up, you and your niece must want to visit."

"Nonsense! There's more than enough, and if I remember correctly, young men your age are always hungry!"

"Yes, Harry, do join us!" Elizabeth coaxed.

"Alright then, I'll just go and wash up."

As Harry left the room Fenton leaned toward his niece and whispered, "Now young woman, no tricks on my new helper! He's a nice boy and he doesn't deserve do be tormented by things he wouldn't understand!"

"But,"

"NO buts!" Fenton declared, "It's hard enough to find someone trustworthy to work for me now and again without you frightening him or making him think this shop is haunted like you did to that bloke that was just in here shopping last Christmas!"

"That tub of lard?" Elizabeth flared, "I'll bet my last galleon he wasn't in here to shop but to steal you blind! If you could have heard him and what he was saying about the magic trick display! You would have…"

"Enough of that! He's coming now."

Harry emerged from the back room, "I've set up a card table in the back if you would like to have lunch back here."

Fenton beamed, "Why thank you Harry! That will be just the ticket!"

Elizabeth bit her lip to hide her smile as she followed them to the back room. She caught Harry's eye and gave him a wink, hoping he would go along with her prank. She sank gracefully into her chair and helped herself to a generous portion of fish and chips.

"There is nothing like this in France!" she sighed happily as she munched her way through her portion, "the French would cover the fish in some sort of sauce or make soup out of it!" she shuddered. "Give me plain old English cooking anytime!"

Fenton beamed at his niece, she really was the apple of his eye, "Glad you are enjoying it my dear!"

"It is very good sir," Harry added, as he devoured his own serving.

"Anytime, my boy, anytime!"

"So," Elizabeth drawled, hunger assuaged she played with her remaining chips, "Harry, what do you think of my uncles shop?"

"I love it!" Harry replied, "I can't wait to take some of these tricks to show off back at school. I also have a couple of friends that would probably enjoy them as well. They have opened a shop of their own recently." He figured that some of these obviously muggle tricks just might work on Fred and George, he especially wanted to introduce them to a whoopee cushion!

"Do you believe in magic?" she asked, giving him another wink.

Harry caught on, "Oh, some magicians are really good, but magic?" he replied skeptically, "Come now, I'm not a kid."

"Elizabeth!" Fenton warned, "behave yourself!"

"Come now uncle, I was just asking Harry's opinion." She answered with a giggle.

"Really sir," Harry couldn't resist playing along, "I've been looking through some of the books in the back, and now I can see that magic is really just a bunch of slight of hand and misdirection."

"I'm glad you can realize that Harry," Fenton sighed in relief, "let me warn you that my niece here is a bit of a prankster, don't go letting yourself get caught out!"

"Oh, don't worry sir, I won't!" Harry assured him.

A/N: First off I'd like to thank my reviewer (and one of my fav fanfic author's) for sticking with me and giving me some really good advise!

Don't worry, I'll be dreaming up some good pranks for Elizabeth and Harry to pull on Fenton… and maybe on each other!


	4. Figuring Each Other Out

Figuring Each Other Out

Harry sat in his room and pondered his day. Elizabeth seemed to be a very nice girl. She was pretty, funny, had a wonderful sense of humor, and she was a witch. There just seemed to be something wrong with that. How could it be possible for him to meet someone who was a witch, whom he'd never met, that knew who he was, and didn't seem to want anything more from him than a bit of friendship? Was he overreacting to a coincidence or was she only what she seemed?

It was a bit too much to believe.

Those sparkling blue eyes. The happy and carefree demeanor. It seemed too easy. Who was she? What was she? Was she a test from the other side? Was she just what she seemed?

The questions whirled through his head.

'Harry's a bit of a dilemma," Elizabeth thought. 'He's also very cute.'

She went over her day in her head. Elizabeth went to meet her favorite uncle for lunch and met '_The Famous Harry Potter_' and he seemed just like every other boy she had ever met. But, somehow, he was different. He didn't trust her. She'd never met anyone so suspicious in her life.

"He probably doesn't trust anyone," she muttered. "Who could blame him? If everything, or even half of everything that's been said about him is true?"

She rolled over on her bed and stared at the wall, "Well, I'll just have to make him believe that I'm on his side and let him know that he met a friend," she whispered, knowing her job was cut out for her. But, being as stubborn as she was, she knew, that in the end, she'd win.

Harry made up his mind, he wasn't going to trust her. It was too easy, too coincidental, and too unbelievable. He'd finish the job at Fenton's shop, gather up the funny muggle magic tricks he knew that George and Fred would love to get their hands on, and be done with that place.

His job at the shop was just a way to pass the time until the Order could come for him. Once that happened, Elizabeth wouldn't ever know what had happened to him. She wouldn't be able to find him, nor would whoever sent her.

For two days Harry had gone to his job, worked all day cleaning out the cluttered back room at Fenton's shop, and Elizabeth hadn't shown so much as an eyelash. Those long eyelashes that framed sparkling blue eyes just the color of the summer sky. 'Enough of that Harry!' he berated himself. 'Keep your mind on business!'

The bell over the door jingled and Harry ignored it, knowing that Fenton was out front making a display of the necklaces of beads Harry had unearthed.

"Hello Uncle!" sang out the voice that had haunted Harry's thoughts.

"Hullo my dear!" came Fenton's reply.

"Do you need any help today?" she asked.

"No, my dear," Fenton replied, "business is down today. You can just run along and enjoy the day. Why don't you go to the lake?"

"Mum and Dad went shopping, and Aunt Esther has decided that the den needs to be cleaned. There's no on to go to the lake with," came the lamented reply.

Fenton winked, leaned forward and whispered, "Why don't you take young Harry in the back? He's been working very hard and I think he might enjoy an afternoon off, with a pretty girl!"

"Sounds like a plan to me!" she whispered back excitedly.

"Harry, my boy!" Fenton called out loudly.

"Yes, sir?" Harry replied, trying to act as though he didn't know anyone other than Fenton was in the front of the shop.

"My niece here needs an escort to the lake, why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off and escort her?" Fenton asked, as Harry poked his head through the doorway to the back room.

"I, er, um, I," Harry stuttered. "I should really keep working here, sir."

"Nonsense! There's plenty of time for that to be done. It's a beautiful day and Elizabeth here needs someone to show her how to get to the lake!" Fenton replied.

"Oh, but sir," Harry tried to refuse.

"No, 'Oh, but sir's', out of you, my boy!" Fenton replied, reaching in his pocket as he went toward Harry. "Here's a few pounds for the trolley, and a treat or two once your there," he told Harry quietly. "Elizabeth doesn't know anyone around here and I'd take it as a personal favor if you would take her there."

Harry couldn't refuse. Fenton was simply too insistent, and too innocent, to believe that there was something sinister going on.

"All right sir," Harry replied, giving in.

"Wonderful!" Elizabeth chimed in, "I'll just run home and put on my suit, grab a towel and be back in a few minutes!" She ran out the door before either of them could reply.

"I think you'd better run home for your own swimsuit," Fenton advised.

"Um, sir, I, uh," Harry stammered, "I don't, um, I don't have a suit."

Pity colored Fenton's kind eyes briefly before he reached into his pocket again. He pulled out a fold of pound notes and pressed them into Harry's hand, "My boy, take these and go to the shop a few doors down and get yourself a suit, a beach towel, and whatever else you might need. I'll take it out of your pay." Not intending to do anything of the sort. This boy needed some looking after.

Harry felt very awkward, but the idea of going to the lake, with a pretty girl, in a brand new suit was too tempting to resist. Even if she might be someone he had to be wary of.

Elizabeth bounced into her room and pulled her favorite swimsuit out of her drawer with one hand as she began pulling off her clothes as quickly as she could. Harry was a very cute boy and she was going to do everything in her power to convince him that she was the girl of his dreams! How hard could it be? He was so shy, he simply couldn't know that many girls.

Besides, she would be going to Hogwarts in the fall. Even if he did know, and like, any girls from school, she'd have the summer to change his mind!


End file.
